The Rabbit in the Ribcage
by Jenthewarrior
Summary: Bones and Booth investigate a murder deep in the Alaskan mountains, plagued by blizzards and icy chasms that seem to be working against their progress. Hodgins investigates a myth dating back to the indigenous Inuit tribe. Also, Booth's concern for the safety of his and Bones' unborn daughter puts the couple at odds, leading to an avalanche that may end in tragedy.
1. Chapter 1

Booth was tired of blackness and cold. He was tired of flashlights bobbing around him, making the ice glitter like flame, of snow slicing his cheeks and freezing the tip of his nose. He was tired of the eerie midnight-blue clouds drifting through the perpetually starless sky, and the full moon painting the ground silver, hiding imperfections until he was too close to avoid them. He was even starting to grow tired of the endless expanses of snow-tipped mountains, which had originally captivated him with their exotic beauty. The only thing that made his physical and mental exhaustion worth it was hearing the familiar bickering of two close friends just ahead of him.

"No, I don't agree with that at all," Bones argued, her clear voice piercing the roar of the wind. "Pop culture and temporary cultural phases are completely irrelevant in raising a child. It's best to keep them completely isolated from the cognitively detrimental – albeit fascinating – effects of modern activities."

Her kind, patient friend placed a hand on her shoulder, smiling. "You're missing the point, Brennan. Don't you want to take your daughter to Disney World and get her picture taken with Mickey Mouse and Goofy?"

"I don't see how an anatomically incorrect depiction of a mouse and a strangely proportioned stuffed dog will help my daughter."

Angela twisted suddenly toward Booth, pausing when the wind ripped her hood off and sent her curly black hair rippling into the air. Her expression changed from reasonable to miffed. "Come on, Booth, back me up on this. Don't you think it's important to let your kids watch cartoons and take them to the carnival?"

He glanced between them, finding Bones' eyes scrutinizing his face. Hesitantly, he chuckled and held up his hands. "Hey, I'm not into carnivals since our experience with the conjoined twins and the knives, but, cartoons, yeah, I guess." He shrugged. "What could a little Tom and Jerry hurt?"

Bones watched him for a split second, and then turned to continue the debate.

"She could have nightmares about giant mice," she insisted, "Or she could grow up believing that mice are truly seven feet tall, and that would disrupt the entire regimen of anthropological lessons I have planned for her."

Booth and Angela shared a smile, giving in to Bones' stubborn, closed mine. He slowed until he was at the back of the group to keep himself from giving an opinion that might trouble the mother of his child. God forbid he start her up again, leading to a debate that would consume the months to come. The sound of her footsteps was swallowed by the snow, and the light of the flashlights gave way to soft, bluish-white slush. The beady black eyes of a weary moose reflected through the pines.

Before long, he was joined by another of the party, someone he wanted to speak with far less than any of the others. "I swear," the ranger began, "I've never seen anything so… so… so… so out of this world, sir."

Ranger Michael Burke was gasping for breath as he trudged alongside Booth. He'd been the one to report a body in these mountains, but he was too out of shape to lead the group at the front. He'd left that to his younger associate, James Hine, and instead spent his time annoying Booth with his complaining. "You'd figure that if you were gonna kill somebody, you'd at least leave the body somewhere accessible, you know? So people ain't gotta break their damn necks tryin' to get to it. This whole area's like a giant ice block; the Alaskan version of the North Pole."

Booth smiled as enthusiastically as he could with frozen facial muscles, but provided the ranger with no answer. His mind was occupied with watching his partner wobble through the snow, swollen belly gathering snowflakes. He was worried about her, and he objected to her presence here, but she'd insisted on coming out in the dead of night despite everything.

He left the ranger and caught up with her, interrupting the new debate she'd begun with Angela. "Do you really have to be out here, Bones? I mean, don't you trust Hodgins and baby-squint to get the body and bring it back to a nice, heated lab off the mountain? Or maybe we could come back tomorrow when it's light, and, you know, less hazardous for you and the baby."

Her blue eyes snapped to his face and she paused. "His name is Mr. Abernathy, and if you're scared you can go back to the ranger station. I'm sure Mr. Burke would also like to go back."

Booth suppressed his temper, putting his hands on her shoulders. "I'm not scared for _me_, Bones; I'm scared for you, and I'm scared for our daughter. You're _four_ months pregnant and it's below zero out here."

Her eyes narrowed without the slightest understanding of his concern. "I'm wearing an arctic-tested thermal body suit, and the thickest winter coat available. The materials in my underclothes could protect an infant in the Arctic Ocean. And you checked everything before we got on the plane; you said you'd be okay with this."

"That was before _this_," he motioned around, indicating the blizzard they'd willingly walked into. "This place is turning into the Storm of the Century. There's no telling what the snow is covering up. It can hide chasms and cracks, or you could step on a hibernating bear, or slip on thin ice and break your back."

She frowned. "I'm confident in the guidance of Mr. Hine."

Booth almost snapped at her, forgetting for a moment that it was hard for her to understand his feelings, but Angela stepped in to stop him. "Maybe Booth's right, sweetie," she murmured, using both hands to hold her hood down. "If something happened to that baby, you'd never forgive yourself."

Bones moved both hands to touch her belly, a dark thought coming over her face, but before she could respond James Hine called the group closer. The collection of three police officers and another park ranger gathered around the young man. Booth, Bones, and Angela joined Jack Hodgins, Finn Abernathy, and Lance Sweets at the front of the meeting. Burke was the last to join them.

"Alright," Hine began, "I'm stopping you guys to give you a few safety tips. I don't want anybody getting hurt out here. This is bear country, but it's also home to caribou and moose, which can be just as dangerous if provoked. Our moose are taller than horses, heavier than bears, and faster than people; don't piss 'em off." He motioned behind him, casually spinning his rifle so it rested on his shoulder. Untouched snow rippled across a wide stretch of land. "Past here is a popular spot for grizzly hibernation; the mining company that came to test our soil left quite a few burrows that bears took a liking to. If you come across a deep patch of snow, don't step in it. I can guarantee you it won't lead to Wonderland."

"Mining companies?" Angela whispered to Hodgins, her voice barely audible over the screaming of the wind. "I thought this was federal land…?"

Her husband shrugged and crossed his arms, curiosity sparkling in his eyes.

"From this point on, I want silence," the ranger went on, looking pointedly at the gathered scientists. "We'll walk in line-formation, one-by-one, for exactly one mile to the second checkpoint; you can see it now, tucked into those black rocks."

"That's a pretty big concentration of basalt," Hodgins whispered, nudging Bones. "You don't think that's the Rabbit's Foot, do you?"

Bones squinted at the mountainside, which had sprouted a massive triangular piece of rock with strange, squared edges. "It's possible," she responded. Noticing the looks that the others gave her, she went on, "The Rabbit's Foot is a formation of rock rumored to exist in the Alaskan mountains; since this section of mountain is so prone to avalanches and blizzards – and apparently became the home of large predators – it's rarely been explored."

"What's so special about it?" Booth crossed his arms, focusing on both the squints and the ranger.

She appeared excited now, bouncing a little on her feet. "Hundreds of pre-Columbian natives supposedly went missing near a basalt formation called the Rabbit's Foot; when the bones were found, each one had been snapped in half, and the Inuit claimed that evil spirits had punished them for leaving their homeland on the coast." Bones glanced between Hodgins and Booth, settling on her fellow scientist to make a point. "That's ridiculous, of course. Modern anthropological speculation is that, if this did occur, it was most likely the cold that killed them and wild animals snapped the brittle bones to eat the marrow."

"Yes," Hodgins snorted sarcastically, "Hundreds of people decided to take a nice long nap in the snow." He looked at Booth, just as excited as Bones. "It's one of the greatest mysteries that never reached the public eye; the government and historical organizations refuse to acknowledge that the people even _existed_, so nobody cares. I, however, will be taking this excellent opportunity to search for remains a few hundred, or thousand, years older than whoever the ranger found."

"We're here for who the ranger found," Booth growled, unable to keep himself from being stirred by that comment. "A living, breathing person who was murdered, not a fairytale you cooked up in conspiracy class."

Hodgins rolled his eyes like a scolded teenager. "Yeah, yeah, I know, justice, woo-hoo, but in my spare time the hunt for the truth is on."

Before Booth could argue, the ranger called their attention back to him. "Alright, I want everyone to grab a section of this rope. I know it's rigid; that's because it's made out of copper and metal wiring. Just don't grab it too hard, it'll bruise your skin." When everyone had a section of rope, they formed a straight line behind the ranger. He had the very front wrapped securely around his waist. "Try to stand directly behind me," he advised. "I've walked this path a thousand times; I even walk it in my dreams."

"Clever," Bones commented. She was in front of him, the only other person actually tethered to the rope. Booth had seen to that. She glanced back at him now, smiling. "If I fall into a chasm of some sort, you can pull me out."

"Let's hope I don't have to, eh, Bones?"

She was still smiling when she turned to tell Angela what she'd observed. Booth was left alone with his thoughts, which ventured into a place he usually avoided. He was afraid of being in small spaces, confined, jammed between rocks at the bottom of a snow-filled chasm, but that fear was outweighed by another; he didn't want to imagine Bones slipping and meeting the same fate.

As he followed his friends at the very back of the line, he realized that this would be a difficult case, and that the night would be far too long, and far too cold.


	2. Chapter 2

It was even darker by the time they reached the basalt outcroppings. No one had fallen into any chasms, and the grizzlies slumbered on through their intrusion, so Booth found himself satisfied with their progress. Bones didn't seem to be slowing down, pushing powerfully through the snow even after another hour of bitter cold, but the others were wearing thin; they rested in the shadow of pitch-black rocks in the wake of a massive, open-ended canyon, closed in on all sides by mountains that pierced the clouds. Exhaustion made them irritable, but the beauty of this place was energizing.

"_Sure_ you don't wanna come?" Hodgins prompted his wife, bouncing on the balls of his feet with a big, stupid grin on his face. His eyes widened and he puckering his lips, tilting his head like a pleading puppy dog.

The panting woman shook her head, leaving it to one side as if she didn't have the energy to hold it up. "If I decide to hike any further, I'll call you. Just set up our tent before you leave, okay?"

Hodgins groaned dramatically. "You're no fun. We could make history; our names could appear on the memorial plaque."

"I just want to make drool, thanks," she cupped his cheek and smiled, pressing their foreheads together for a brief moment before she went to join Bones. The disappointed scientist hesitated for a moment before following.

The less annoying ranger approached Booth, smiling warmly as he offered a steaming cup of straight black coffee. Booth took it gratefully, breathing in the fumes while the ranger spoke. "You watch those people like they're the sheep and you're the shepherd, huh? That Doctor Brennan… it's your baby, isn't it?"

Booth cocked a defensive eyebrow and the ranger put his hands up. "I'm not trying to get in your business, brother, but I could see the spark between you two. Why in the world would you let her come out here? Aren't you worried about the baby?"

"It's like arguing with a brick wall," Booth responded dryly.

"Sounds like my girls," the ranger laughed. He pulled a small, crumpled picture from his pocket, which portrayed him in the center of a large, fluffy couch with two doe-eyed girls splayed across his lap, smiling toothily. There was a pretty young woman sitting beside him, her arms wrapped around a squirming boy who couldn't have been more than two.

The picture warmed Booth, sparking conversation between them. He showed Hine the picture of Parker he always kept in his wallet and they exchanged stories about little-league and late-night, albeit ill-advised, scary movies. He found the young ranger to be a likable guy; he had an open, honest face and everything he said was perfectly modest. His fellow rangers were standoffish, but he never said anything against them, singing only praise their way.

Booth spent ten minutes completely engaged in their conversation before the ranger wrapped it up and summoned the group to him. Booth admired his confidence. He told Bones, Hodgins, and Finn where the body had been found and sent the other ranger, Holly-something, to lead them. He directed one police officer to go with them, and the other two to keep an eye on the camp. Sweets opted out of following the scientists, preferring to get a few pictures of the wildlife while everyone else was occupied. Booth was about to follow his squints, but Hine asked him to wait, signaling for Burke to join them.

"I thought I'd take this chance to give you a little history on this region," Hine explained, taking a seat on one of the many chunks of black rock lying in the snow. He motioned to Burke, though his faith in the man didn't seem wholehearted. "And this is the best man to help me do it; he's been walking these paths for twenty years."

He wanted to hear their stories, but Bones was looking back at him questioningly. Every instinct told him to follow her. "Can't this wait, guys?" he wondered. "I wanna get off this mountain as soon as possible; and that's my partner over there, I can't just let her wobble – wander – off on her own."

Hine smiled sympathetically. "We're required to get you back to the station by noon tomorrow, so it's now or never, friend. I wish it wasn't so rushed, I really do, but people get lost and hurt out here damn near every day, and they need somebody to dig 'em out and take 'em back to their families."

He was hard-pressed to agree, but he knew how it felt to prioritize different responsibilities. He nodded regretfully. "Yeah… I understand. Lay it on me."

"I heard your scientists talking about the Rabbit's Foot," Burke said suddenly, a bit of a rush to his words. Hine looked at him strangely. "I just wanted to let you know that it's all nonsense; nobody died up here, hell, nobody ever lived up here. They just wanted a story of their own for publicity and tourism; too bad it fell through."

Whether it was his innate dislike of Burke or a defensive mechanism, Booth immediately responded, "Those scientists are some of the smartest people alive, and they were pretty convinced that it happened." He didn't mean to sound so irked, but when people talked about his squints, it bothered him.

"Well, lots of college-educated people come up here claiming that, but I know it didn't happen. I've been all over these mountains, and if there were any bones up here, I would've seen them. Anyway, that's ancient history." He put an end to it so suddenly that it pricked Booth's suspicion; there was something off about this man. "What's been happening lately is what's really important; ain't that right, Hine?"

The younger ranger nodded obediently.

"Not long ago, the state had a big fight with the government over who had rights to the stretch of land we just crossed. Historians argued that it was rightfully federal land because Clear Banks State Park ends just a few feet from where we are now; they could expand the boundaries and do what they want with it. We fell on hard times and were scraping for money. Tourism has gone down since the economy's so shaky, and everyone's terrified to travel; the state wanted to sell the park so some big company could come in and strip-mine the whole place. The government refused to let it happen, but somebody high up in the chain of command went against them and let the mining company test the soil anyway."

At this point, Burke looked straight at Booth, shaking his head in strong disapproval. "They found deposits of precious gems."

"Here?" Booth glanced back to the long stretch of snow they'd crossed, where footprints moved in a path along the sloping ground. He could only see whiteness, nothing to indicate what was underneath.

Burke nodded. "We walked right through it. It's not too much, but can you imagine how many locals are out here trying to pocket some gems? What your friends are looking for is one of two things: An act of greed, or an act of stupidity. Either way, you have a dead criminal on your hands, and a worse criminal on the loose."

Booth hated buying into theatrics, but the older ranger's words sent a small tremor down his spine. He could barely see the sky now; the pine trees bent like blades of grass under the vicious northern gale. Mountains loomed like age-old titans in the distance, as endless as the helicopter ride into this mess. The snow never seemed to stop falling, changing rapidly from sleet to jagged fragments of ice. This place was the perfect scene for a tragedy.

He couldn't stop the sinking feeling in his heart, the burning desire to find his friends and carry them to safety. If something happened to Bones… he didn't know if he could handle it.

XxX

Jack Hodgins was knee-deep in blood and snow, bound so tightly in thermal outer-wear that he could barely raise his knee to put one foot in front of the other. He was cold and physically exhausted, his fingertips and toes irreversibly numb, his veins rumbling with discomfort; cold blood collided angrily with the hot blood from his heart. It was enough to make him crave a nap in the snow, but his mind was buzzing as he gazed at the basalt rocks surrounding them. The hills were alive with mystery and death; sure, being struck down by the spirits was ridiculous, but the prospect of uncovering an age-old mass-murder that the government had covered up was both exciting and enticing.

"Can you… stop smiling like that?" Holly Greene, the ranger who was guiding them, requested. She was standing at least ten feet from them, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her eyes glassy as she watched them work.

Hodgins shrugged and dropped the expression, though his glee was hard to contain. He saw Brennan begin to wobble from side to side, so he grabbed her arm and helped her out of the ice and gore, guiding her to a stable patch of flat mush. She looked at him with her eyebrows drawn. "There's not a body, but, judging by the sheer amount of blood, someone was definitely killed here. I found a skull fragment and some tissue, most likely shaken off of the murder weapon or dislodged during an assault. The trail leads in this direction…"

With that, they moved on. Despite the ranger's objections, Hodgins took the lead and trudged through the snow alongside the drag marks, guiding them through the thick maze of fragmented basalt. He stopped in his tracks when he found several bloody mounds of snow and ice lining the path. He drew in a breath to say something sarcastic, but the stench made him choke on it.

Brennan went straight to work, crouching to dig a few rotting piles from the makeshift graves. There was only darkness in her expression. "There's… something wrong with these remains." She drew a long, thin bone into the air, holding it so all of them could see. "This is the tibia of someone in their early twenties, most likely an African – more specifically Nigerian – male, but this," she picked up another, this one exponentially smaller, "this is from a Caucasian male between the ages of six and eight. There are multiple bodies here."

Hodgins was chilled by the thought of a dead boy, one who wasn't too much older than his own son, but it didn't stop him from observing something else disturbing. He leaned over Brennan's shoulder, narrowing his eyes. "Shouldn't these be preserved? It's freezing out here."

She set the bones down and frowned, puzzled, "Yes… they should."

Finn, who'd been digging through the snow for some time now, rose and yanked his gloves off, using both hands to dislodge the snow from his fluffy blonde hair. He wore the same expression as Brennan, though it was wracked with anxiety. "We got us a situation here, guys. I found enough remains for six different bodies, and I'm not even done lookin' through the last pile."

Skin tingling with distress, Hodgins turned away from his friends. At least eight people had been murdered, ground up into fleshy piles, and dumped in the same place that held his favorite legend? He was suddenly less enthusiastic about investigating the Rabbit's Foot… or investigating anything, for that matter.

"This case is very alarming," Brennan murmured behind him. He turned to respond to her, but she was in the process of digging something out of the snow, her expression turning rapidly from worried to utterly flabbergasted. She gripped something and pulled it out for all of them to see.

The police officer stumbled away and vomited.

The ranger squealed and scurried toward the checkpoint.

Brennan stared down at it with wide, pensive eyes.

Hodgins took in a deep breath.

It was a star formed by five short sticks with jagged edges, wrapped in a thin layer of human intestine that was riddled with veins. On each of the points, a wad of caulk held an assortment of teeth in place, some of them human, some from different types of rodents. The center had been cleared expertly with a sharp blade, and a glass eye had been wedged into it. The blue iris stared at them.

"That is seriously twisted," Hodgins stuttered.

He thought about leaving then and there, keeping the memories of this place in the darkest corners of his mind, but the compulsion to solve these murders was too strong. He had particulates to collect and analyze; he had to do everything in his power to catch the sick bastard who'd led them there that night.


	3. Chapter 3

Jack Hodgins was knee-deep in blood and snow, bound so tightly in thermal outer-wear that he could barely put one foot in front of the other. He was cold and physically exhausted, but his mind buzzed as he gazed around at the basalt rocks surrounding him. The hills were alive with mystery and death; sure, being struck down by spirits was ridiculous, but the prospect of uncovering an age-old mass-murder was both exciting and enticing.

"Stop smiling like that; it's getting creepy." Angela nudged him affectionately, giving him a half-frozen smile that melted his heart.

He responded by moving closer to her, shaking ice from his curly hair.

Brennan was the next to speak, rising from her place beside the mass of gore. She shook her head, her eyebrows drawn and her mouth set in a confused frown. "There's something… wrong with these remains." She drew a long, thin bone from within the snow, holding it up for them to see. "This is the tibia of someone in their early twenties, but this," she picked up another, this one exponentially smaller, "this is from someone well into their sixties."

Hodgins narrowed his eyes and stepped closer, leaning over to get a good view at the big, shredded mess of bones and decaying flesh. "Shouldn't this be preserved? It's freezing out here."

Setting the bones back in their place, Brennan went on, "Yes… it should."

Finn, who'd been digging through the snow for some time now, rose and yanked his gloves off, using both hands to dislodge the snow from his fluffy black coat. He wore the same expression as Brennan, though it was different on someone who was usually so content. "We got us a situation here, Dr. Brennan. I found enough remains for six different bodies, and I'm not even through lookin' yet."

Hodgins' skin tingled with distress. Six people murdered, ground into a pile of flesh, and dumped in the same place that held one of his favorite legends? He was suddenly less enthusiastic about investigating the Rabbit's Foot.

"This case is very alarming," Brennan murmured. She crouched again, digging through the snow until she located something else. When she stood with it in her outstretched hand, every set of eyes flew to her.

Hodgins' eyes widened.

Angela whispered a sharp curse.

One of the police officers vomited behind them.

It was a star formed by five short sticks, wrapped in human intestines stretched so tight that it tore in some places. On each of the points, a wad of gum held different teeth, some of them human, some from different types of rodents. The center had been cleared expertly with a sharp blade, and an eyeball had been placed there. The clouded blue iris stared out at them.

"This guy is seriously twisted," Hodgins stuttered.

Angela moved closer to him, wrapping her arms around one of his and resting her head on his shoulder. She shook it constantly, as if denying what she was seeing. "I can't be here," she said, her wide brown eyes focusing on Brennan. "I'm sorry. I'm gonna go see if the rangers will take me back to the lab. I'll see you guys there."

She turned away, disappearing through the maze of black rocks they'd navigated earlier. Hodgins considered following her, but he knew he had plenty of particulates to collect, and a gruesome murder to solve. Angela was a big girl, and he knew that she could take care of herself. Besides, Booth was out there.

Brennan watched Angela leave as well, a sad look on her face. "I wish we had that freedom sometimes."

Hodgins nodded, but said nothing.

XxX

"So, who found the body?"

Booth, Burke, and Hynne were sitting by the black rocks. Moments ago they'd been joined by Sweets, who'd called into the FBI after hearing the body count from a distraught Angela. Reinforcements were on the way. Sweets and Booth were propped on the same rock, their arms crossed and their eyes narrowed against the icy winds. Angela had settled a few feet away, watching them with a measure of interest, but seemingly lost in her own thoughts. Numbness crept slowly up Booth's legs, warning him against remaining immobile.

Burke and Hynne exchanged a glance at his question. Hynne was the one to answer. "Daryl Summers ad Amy Toker; they were hiking, supposedly. The distress call went out sometime two nights ago, during a killer blizzard. We got it the next morning."

Booth retrieved his notebook and jotted down the names, along with the timeframe. "Why'd it take so long for you guys to get the call?"

"The blizzard," Burke said, narrowing his eyes. "One of our radio towers went out, and repairing those things is a bitch."

Booth nodded, his irritation with Burke growing. He tried to remain pleasant. "How did they know it was human? I mean, you guys have a lot of active wildlife out here, right?"

"This time of year?" Burke chuckled. "The biggest we got right now is foxes, and they ain't known for going after moose."

"I guess that makes sense."

Hynne folded his arms and shook his head. The group fell into temporary silence. When the ranger finally spoke, his voice had softened. "It's pretty gory out there. Those kids will probably be scarred by what they saw."

"Who wouldn't be?" Sweets agreed, commenting for the first time on the case. He looked over at Booth. "We should check on the others."


End file.
